The shard’s hum had become a constant presence now, a quiet rhythm threading through my days. It wasn’t loud or overbearing, but it was there—steady, persistent, and unyielding. Each infusion brought new strength, sharper senses, and a faint but undeniable connection to the magic coursing through me.

But with each step forward, the weight of my progress seemed to grow. It wasn’t just the physical toll of infusing magic; it was the uncertainty that came with it. What was this shard truly? And why had it chosen me?

The training yard was busier than usual that morning, the air thick with the sound of clashing steel and shouted commands. My father had ordered a series of drills for the garrison, and the soldiers moved with brisk efficiency under Aric’s watchful eye.

I lingered at the edge of the yard, the shard pulsing faintly in my chest. Its hum aligned with the rhythm of the soldiers’ movements, sharp and precise. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel the energy they carried—the tension in the air, the subtle shifts in weight as they sparred.

“Are you going to stand there all day, little brother?” Aric’s voice cut through the din, sharp and mocking. “Or are you here to give the men another show?”

I tightened my grip on the wooden practice sword at my side. His tone hadn’t changed, but I could sense the edge of uncertainty behind it. He hadn’t forgotten our last match.

“I thought I’d see if you’ve learned anything since yesterday,” I replied, stepping into the circle. The shard’s hum sharpened as I took my stance, its energy steadying my nerves.

The soldiers around us paused, their murmurs filling the air as they turned to watch. Aric didn’t wait for a signal. His first strike came fast, a diagonal slash aimed at my shoulder. But the shard’s energy guided me, and I sidestepped the blow with ease, countering with a quick thrust that forced him back.

His frustration was palpable as the match continued, each of his attacks met with deflections and counters. The shard’s hum sharpened my senses, allowing me to anticipate his movements before they landed. I wasn’t just holding my own—I was pushing him.

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The match ended with my blade at his chest, his weapon lying on the ground. The soldiers around us fell silent, their disbelief almost tangible. Aric stared at me, his breathing heavy, his expression unreadable.

“You’ve... improved,” he said finally, his tone begrudging. It wasn’t a compliment, but it wasn’t an insult either.

“Maybe I’m stronger than you think,” I replied, stepping back.

Aric said nothing more, retrieving his weapon and walking away. The soldiers’ murmurs followed me as I left the circle, their whispers carrying a mix of curiosity and respect.

Later, I found myself in the library, as I often did after sparring. The familiar scent of parchment and ink was a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the training yard. Master Briar greeted me with his usual calm demeanor, though his sharp gaze carried a hint of concern.

“You’re pushing yourself harder than usual,” he said, guiding me to a chair. “Should I be worried?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just... I need to understand this. The shard, the magic—it’s changing me, Briar. I can feel it.”

He was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Magic has a way of leaving its mark, Caelan. You’re bound to it now, whether you like it or not. But you must be careful. Power like this always comes with a cost.”

“I’m willing to pay it,” I said quietly, my fingers brushing against the medallion. “If it means proving myself, if it means becoming stronger... I’ll take the risks.”

Briar sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken words. “Then you must also be prepared for what lies ahead. The path you’ve chosen is not an easy one.”

That night, the shard’s hum grew louder as I sat cross-legged on the floor of my chambers. Its energy was sharper now, more insistent, as though urging me to push further. I closed my eyes, focusing on the rhythm of my breathing, the steady beat of my heart.

The words from the ancient book echoed in my mind. Feel the magic. Let it flow. Guide it to where it is needed.

I let the shard’s energy spread through me, starting with my arms and shoulders. The warmth was soothing at first, a gentle pulse that sent shivers through my muscles. But as I guided it deeper, the pain returned—sharp, biting, and unrelenting.

I clenched my teeth, my free hand clawing at the floor as the shard’s energy surged. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to stop, to let go. But I didn’t. I pushed through the pain, letting the shard’s hum steady me.

When the pain finally subsided, I collapsed onto the floor, my chest heaving. My body ached, but beneath the exhaustion was something new. A faint strength, a deeper connection to the shard’s energy.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the difference in the way my muscles responded. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. And that was enough.